Drunken Lullabies
by SerenityFalconNormandy
Summary: Written for the Dragon Age Reddit Weekly Writing Prompt: The calm before the storm, soldiers singing, a whisper of breeze, Red! Marian Hawke tries to get some sleep the night before the assault on Adamant Fortress. ("Drunken Lullabies" by Flogging Molly, I don't own a single note/lyric.)


Marian sat alone on a dune overlooking the Warden fortress of Adamant. The whisper of a breeze shushed over the sand, scattering grains everywhere and fluttering her hair into a wild raven halo around her head. Looking back over her shoulder and squinting into the following gusts, she could make out the campfires of the Inquisition forces. The dunes hid them from the view of the fortress. When the sun rose in the morning, they would lay siege.

The dark red of the sunset was quickly blocked out by giant, dark clouds scuttling across the sky as the breeze grew to a harsh desert wind. Watching the giant thunderheads, Marian drew in a deep breath. The air was moist, but didn't carry the petrichor scent that meant they would release their rain on the Approach. They were bound for the Orlesian Heartlands, and the fields that had been conspicuously light on farming peasants as the army had made its way through. Bloody Orlesians and their civil war. They had learned nothing from the Occupation and its aftermath, and as always in war, the peasantry would be the ones starving.

Turning back to the fortress, Marian watched the twinkle of torches walking along the battlements. Did they know what was coming? Were they questioning their decision to listen to Clarel yet? Supposedly, the Hero and the Wardens that she had taken under her wing were far away and wouldn't be in Adamant. She didn't entirely trust Sister Leliana to be straight with her when she asked, but it was the most reassurance she was going to get that she wouldn't be killing a Fereldan national hero.

The wind moaned around Marian, and biting sting of the blown sand became too much. Standing and shielding her eyes, she made her way down the dune back into the camp. Some of the soldiers who recognized her were wide-eyed in awe, some narrowed their eyes and curled their lips at her. Whatever, she wasn't with the Inquisition to make friends. She was there to make Corypheus suffer before killing him again in the most painful way imaginable.

Her tent was next to Fen'lath's, a little apart from the rest of the Inquisition's inner circle and their tents. Aside from their discussions about helping to get Carver off lyrium, she and Cullen had maintained a wide berth from each other. He was still angry about Marian talking to Solona about her views and opinions on his time in Kirkwall. Unsurprisingly, those views were less than flattering. Even in the weeks leading up to the Chantry explosion, he'd been threatening recruits simply because there was a suspicion they were associating with mages. She'd watched him support Meredith as she illegally Annulled the Kirkwall Circle. He had participated in that Annulment, and only stopped to consider what was going on when Marian herself had been threatened with death instead of arrest. What had he honestly expected - a wholesale endorsement of her cousin's feelings?

Shaking her head, she crossed to the tent. Hopefully, she'd be able to get an hour or two of sleep. It hadn't been happening often lately, but she'd still give it the old try.

"Hey Kid, you okay?"

Marian stopped before ducking into her tent, and turned to Iron Bull. It wasn't worth trying to lie to the giant Qunari, he'd see right through it. "I know I killed Corypheus the last time I saw him. Yet, here we are fighting him again, plus a bunch of mule-headed Wardens."

"Yeah, I can see why that would qualify as 'not okay'. C'mon, have a drink with the Chargers, it'll cheer you up."

"Do I look like I need cheering up?"

"Nah, but ending the day on a high note will help you sleep better. Sleep equals more prepared for whatever shit the Wardens throw at us tomorrow." Bull's eye twinkled. Damn, he'd noticed. "Those battlements aren't gonna take themselves."

"All right, if you insist."

"Aw, don't say it like I'm twisting your arm."

Dropping her shoulder and pantomiming having her arm twisted, Marian danced around him, "Ow, stoppit Bull! I said I'd come, ow!"

"Smartass."

"Every chance I get!"

As he roared with laughter, Bull steered Marian over to the fire in the middle of the Chargers' camp. Some of the soldiers around them were singing that damned hymn that they had apparently decided was the Inquisition's rallying song.

Dropping into place between Dalish and Krem, Marian asked, "Do any of you know other songs? If I have to hear that Blighted hymn one more time, I'm going to go insane."

Dalish perked up, "Grim, do you remember how to play that song we heard in the tavern in Nevarra?"

"_Grunt_," Grim stood and ducked into his tent, then emerged with a mandolin in his arms. Dalish dashed to hers, pulled a bodhran out of her packs, and drummed on it lightly. Warming up quickly, Grim strummed the mandolin and then began picking out a fast, jig-like tune. The other Chargers slapped their thighs or clapped their hands while Dalish rapped on the drum.

"Must it take a life for hateful eyes

To glisten once again

Five hundred years like the Blight

Have blown us all to hell

What savior rests while on his path we die

While forgotten freedom burns

Has the shepard led his lambs astray

To the bigot and the bow

Must it take a life for hateful eyes

To glisten once again

'Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess

Singin' drunken lullabies"

Soldiers from the other fires began crowding around, listening to the song, and a few who must have been Nevarran singing along. Ales appeared as if from nowhere, shoved into hands to be held aloft while they sang.

"I watch and stare as Archdemon's eyes

Turn a darker shade of red

And the arrow with this sniper lie

In their bloody gutless cell

Must we starve on crumbs from long ago

Through bars these men made steel

Is it a great or little thing we fought

Knelt the conscience blessed to kill

Must it take a life for hateful eyes

To glisten once again

'Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess

Singin' drunken lullabies"

On the chorus, it felt like everyone around the fire sang along, raising their tankards and taking deep pulls. Marian felt warmth spread through her chest as she shouted along, taking comfort that everyone around also felt they were stuck in 'the same old mess'.

"Ah, but maybe it's the way you were taught

Or maybe it's the way we fought

But a smile never grins without tears to begin

For each kiss is a cry we all lost

Though there is nothing left to gain

But for the banshee that stole the grave

'Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess

Singin' drunken lullabies"

Krem draped his arm over Marian's shoulders, squeezing her in a familiar and friendly way, and they slammed their ales together. He reminded her of Carver, and the warmth bloomed more at the reminder of her pain-in-the-ass younger brother.

"I sit in and dwell on faces past

Like memories seem to fade

No color left but black and white

And soon will all turn grey

But may these shadows rise to walk again

With lessons truly learnt

When the blossom flowers in each our hearts

Shall beat a new found flame

Must it take a life for hateful eyes

To glisten once again

'Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess

Singin' drunken lullabies"

The roar of voices from the Chargers' fire had drowned out the hymn, and chorus was close to deafening as everyone joined in for the last refrain.

"'Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess

Singin' drunken lullabies, singin' drunken lullabies."

A raucous cheer went up, and some of the Nevarrans came forward to thump Grim on the back. Dalish laughed as Bull swung her up in a hug, and he shouted, "Great job, Dalish! I bet the Wardens know we're here now!"

"Not a chance! We're downwind."

The wind whipped through the tents, making the fire snap and crackle while soldiers argued over which tavern song to sing next.

Marian sipped at her ale, comfortable leaning against Krem and listening to him teach the scout who had joined them at the fire how to swear in Tevene. It wasn't her band of merry misfits, but she felt more at home than she had since leaving Starkhaven.

Maybe, just maybe, she would sleep tonight, despite everything.


End file.
